


The Trouble in Times Square Affair: Chapter XIII- wash rinse repeat.

by mrua7



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, Round Robin, Spies & Secret Agents, blizzard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: The Trouble in Times Square Affair





	The Trouble in Times Square Affair: Chapter XIII- wash rinse repeat.

Illya floored the van inside the warehouse with a screech of the tires; gaining traction was fine, but as soon as the vehicle exited it was met with an ever deepening snowfall.

The van swerved and Kuryakin shouted in Russian for the others to hold on, knowing that both Napoleon and April would understand him.

_“Derzhis' za chto-nibud'!”_

Mark caught on quickly and followed suit. Collier Adams however, did not.

Illya pinned the wheel and the van went over. Hitting something hard, it landed on its side in a huge snow dri

The UNCLE agents sprang into action to the sound of a blaring horn as there was a struggle in the darkness. The only light was from the muzzle flash as Adam’s gun went off.

The weapon was finally wrenched from his hand as he was knocked out with a mighty double-handed blow from Slate.

“Illya!” Napoleon barked, thinking his partner had been shot again. Kuryakin was leaning motionless against the driver’s side door.

The horn ceased blaring as he pulled his partner up, checking his pulse.

“I am fine Napoleon,”Illya said; he had a sizable lump from his forehead hitting the steering wheel, and winced as he reached up to touch it.

“I thought Adams had followed through with his threat.” Solo breathed a sigh of relief, first Illya being stabbed, then shot; he doubted his partner, as strong as he was, could withstand another serious injury.

The unconscious Collier Adams was bound with wires from the equipment in the rear of the van while Mark and Napoleon pulled the sliding door on the side of the van open and climbed out, followed by April and Illya, but not before retrieving their communicators and weapons.

Apparently there had been a sizable downed tree hidden beneath the snow drift and that left the front end of the vehicle badly damaged. There was no way it could be uprighted.

“You know Illya, Mister Waverly isn’t going to be happy that you wrecked another vehicle,”April chided,”especially since this one was a prototype.”

Kuryakin merely pursed his lips, but said nothing. It was too cold to stand there in the heavy snowfall to discuss the point, or its consequences.

The men accompanying Adams came running through from the warehouse, but they were quickly dispatched with sleep darts. As the four agents retreated inside from the storm, the unconscious men were dragged there as well.

“I think it’s safe to assume that Adams did not call for backup,” Napoleon said as his partner began reexamining the wall that separated them from Lilly, Sue and the other prisoners.

“That is unless it is back up from Thrush,” Illya said.

“You’re always looking on the bright side of life aren’t you tovarisch?”

Kuryakin was no longer interested in conversation; putting his ear to the wall; he could just barely make out voices from the other side.

“I can hear cries, women and children. Adams lied; they are still here.”

Napoleon, in the meantime, had opened a communicator, contacting Mister Waverly.

“Mister Solo, where the devil have you and Mister Kuryakin been? You were supposed to go to the Claiborne house but I found it necessary to send Dancer and Slate to find you.” The Old Man didn’t sound very happy.

“Firstly sir, are you all right?”

“Ahem, why of course, despite the fact that I’ve been abandoned along with Mrs. Claiborne by Collier Adams and his team at the Claiborne house. They took off without so much as a by your leave, as it were.”

“Sir, Adams and his people were apparently involved with Thrush and had their own plans, but they’ve since been subdued.

“Adams Thrush? We’re going to have to double down on our vetting process. Further details Mister Solo?”

“Long story sir, but Mister Kuryakin and I were kidnapped, and were being hunted down by a man named Shiv.”

“I am aware of him Mister Solo...”

Napoleon didn’t question how the Old Man knew, “We were finally taken prisoner by him and caged at a nearby warehouse along with others waiting to be sold as part of a human trafficking ring. He was initially working for the Claibornes who wanted us killed but he had a change of mind. We’ve since found out the Claiborne’s daughter Catherine was working for Thrush and involved in that same human trafficking ring. Shiv discovered this and decided to continue with her plan to sell us to the highest bidder along with other prisoners, many of whom are children.”

“I am, however,”Waverly said,” aware of the human trafficking as Randy Claiborne confessed to having been involved for years. He did so before killing himself by jumping out a third floor window. We saw on a monitor screen that he was observing you and Mister Kuryakin being hunted down.”

There was a very pregnant pause that was followed by a sigh, before the Old Man continued.

“This has become far more complicated than I first imagined, ”Waverly mumbled. “I take it you are safe for the moment…”

“Yes but not the other prisoners. We’ll need a team here asap with sledge hammers, crowbars and a lot of muscle to free them.”

“Wouldn’t explosives be more expeditious?”

“Negative sir; too risky.”

“Help might take some time Mister Solo, given the weather conditions.”

“I understand sir. Shiv is heading for the airport to catch an international flight so we need to notify our agents as well as the local authorities to be on the lookout for him. I’m sure the storm is slowing him as well so our agents and the police may be able to get ahead of him and set a trap at Kennedy Airport.”

“I will take care of those arrangements immediately.”

“Excuse me sir, ”Illya interrupted,” Perhaps we could call on one Nick Rozhdestvo with his snowplow to extricate us while Miss Dancer and Mister Slate remain here at the warehouse for assistance in freeing the prisoners. You may be able to find him at the local clinic where his granddaughter is a physician.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you know this gentleman, but I will endeavor to locate him. Anything else?”

“Perhaps he could bring blankets, hot coco, some bandages as well as a surgical needle and thread with him. He will have access to all this at the clinic.”

“Consider it done Mister Kuryakin. Waverly out.”

The Old Man didn’t want to know the reason for the medical supplies. When it came to his Russian operative, sometimes it was better just not to ask. No doubt he or perhaps his partner had been injured but as usual neither man would admit it unless it was serious. Still, Kuryakin didn’t request the doctor’s assistance, so that was a good sign.

April and Mark had winter coats but Napoleon and Illya did not. Solo kept pacing, clapping his hands on his arms to generate some heat. Dancer finally had the brilliant idea to relieve Adam’s men of their warm jackets.

“Thanks April,” Napoleon smiled as he slipped into one of the coats.

Kuryakin was looking paler than usual as Solo helped him put on the other coat. Of course it was too big, but that didn’t matter as it would keep the injured Russian more comfortable. It was then Napoleon spotted blood on Illya’s shirt.

“That’s why you asked for the bandages.”

“Yes, in the crash I may have popped a few stitches, but I am fine.”

“You always say that when you’re about to keel over.”

“I am not going to keel over, now please let it be Napoleon,” Illya hissed. “Stop being a mother hen.”

Fifteen minutes later a pair of headlights flashed through the snowfall and the muffled roar of an engine was heard. Nick had arrived and the requested supplies with him.

Still dressed in red and black; he exited the truck with a boisterous laugh.

“Ho-ho boys! Here I am coming to your rescue again. We’ve got to stop making a habit of meeting like this!”

Introductions were made while the blankets and coco were distributed, though Dancer and Slate seemed a bit distracted by Nick’s appearance.

“Don’t you think it’s rather strange that he looks like Santa Claus,” April whispered to Mark. “And his name’s Nick Rozhdestvo. His last name means ‘Christmas’ in Russian...and Nick, as in Old Saint Nick? Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

  
"Luv, in this business nothing ever seems strange to me,” he sipped some of the hot chocolate from a mug handed to him by their personal 'jolly old elf'l It was probably the best coco Slate ever had. It suddenly caught Slate’s attention that his first name was painted on the mug. Now things had definitely become strange...  
  


Seeing the blood on Kuryakin's shirt; Nick motioned for Napoleon and Illya to climb into the truck with him as there he had the requested medical supplies. Better to take care of that business in the warmth of the cab with the heater on. Kuryakin quickly lifted his shirt, removing a bloody bandage.

“Let me help you with that son,” Nick offered.

“No...thank you. I can handle it myself. Not uttering a sound, Illya threaded the needle and stitched the wound himself after cleaning it. Nick suspected more than the requested medical supplies would be needed and had brought hydrogen peroxide as well.

As Kuryakin applied it to the wound with a gauze pad, watching for a moment as the peroxide foamed pink.

Napoleon cringed just a little as he watched his partner jab the curved needle into his flesh, resewing the wound where the stitches had come open.

Once the procedure was finished, he did help Illya rebandage the wound as the bit of surgery had sapped some of the Russian’s energy reserve.

“Here, “ Nick held out a bottle of pills.” Just antibiotics; my granddaughter said you should start taking them. No arguments.”

“I would never argue with your Snow Maiden,” Kuryakin half smiled as he accepted them an swallowed a pill along with a cup of hot coco that seemed to appear in Nick's hand from seemingly nowhere. Illya put it off to his having lost more blood than he first thought.

Nick winked upon hearing that name applied to his granddaughter.

“Say, do you think you could get us to New York City?” Napoleon asked.

“I think I can try.” He flashed a toothy grin from beneath that big white beard and moustache of his. “What’s one more Christmas wish to grant.”

“Christmas?” Napoleon asked. “It’s Christmas?”

“Ho-ho, yes it is son. Then again with all that’s been happening with you two, I’m not surprised you’ve lost track of a little thing like the date.”

The agents hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a little stuffed toy reindeer standing atop the dashboard. Nick gave it a squeeze and the nose lit up...red of course.

“Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my... snow plow tonight?” Nick laughed. He turned on the radio; Bing Crosby was crooning away.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know.Where the treetops glisten, and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow…”

“I think his dreams come true and then some,” Napoleon muttered.

Illya said nothing as he had laid his head back and closed his eyes, still there was just the hint of a smile on his lips.

***

Once Kuryakin woke up Napoleon filled his partner in on his latest theory.

“Now that we know Catherine was in cahoots with Thrush and not an innocent since she was involved in the selling of innocent human beings; I suspect there might be some useful information at the Claiborne’s shop in Times Square.”

“What sort of information?”

“Perhaps details in reference to the trafficking ring. It doesn’t make sense that Durham, a Thrush agent, kidnapped another Thrush operative, unless he caught onto Catherine’s little side business with her father. Maybe he wanted a piece of the action? I’m convinced there’s secret intel to be had at the shop.”

“Interesting thoughts my friend.”

“Human trafficking?” Nick couldn’t help but overhear the UNCLE agent’s discussion.

“Yes sir,” Napoleon said,” and we’re going to do something about it.”


End file.
